GRUMIO.Nay, 'tis no matter, sir, what he 'leges in Latin. If thisbe not a lawful cause for me to leave his service, look you, sir,he bid me knock him and rap him soundly, sir: well, was it fit fora servant to use his master so; being, perhaps, for aught I see,two-and-thirty, a pip out?Whom would to God I had well knock'd at first,Then had not Grumio come by the worst.

PETRUCHIO.A senseless villain! Good Hortensio,I bade the rascal knock upon your gate,And could not get him for my heart to do it.

GRUMIO.Knock at the gate! O heavens! Spake you not these wordsplain: 'Sirrah knock me here, rap me here, knock me well, andknock me soundly'? And come you now with 'knocking at the gate'?

PETRUCHIO.Such wind as scatters young men through the worldTo seek their fortunes farther than at home,Where small experience grows. But in a few,Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:Antonio, my father, is deceas'd,And I have thrust myself into this maze,Haply to wive and thrive as best I may;Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home,And so am come abroad to see the world.

HORTENSIO.Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to theeAnd wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife?Thou'dst thank me but a little for my counsel;And yet I'll promise thee she shall be rich,And very rich: but th'art too much my friend,And I'll not wish thee to her.

PETRUCHIO.Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as weFew words suffice; and therefore, if thou knowOne rich enough to be Petruchio's wife,As wealth is burden of my wooing dance,Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewdAs Socrates' Xanthippe or a worse,She moves me not, or not removes, at least,Affection's edge in me, were she as roughAs are the swelling Adriatic seas:I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;If wealthily, then happily in Padua.

GRUMIO.Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his mind is: why,give him gold enough and marry him to a puppet or anaglet-baby; or an old trot with ne'er a tooth in her head, thoughshe has as many diseases as two-and-fifty horses: why, nothingcomes amiss, so money comes withal.

HORTENSIO.Petruchio, since we are stepp'd thus far in,I will continue that I broach'd in jest.I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wifeWith wealth enough, and young and beauteous;Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman:Her only fault, — and that is faults enough, — Is, that she is intolerable curstAnd shrewd and froward, so beyond all measure,That, were my state far worser than it is,I would not wed her for a mine of gold.